


In Your Hands

by Oparu



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-18
Updated: 2010-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/pseuds/Oparu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Episode tag for Latent Image. Tuvok asks Chakotay to take care of the captain after her correctly perceives her to be unwell. Chakotay/Janeway friendship...borderline romantic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Shayenne during VAMB's Spring Fling 2010. Posted gratefully with her permission.

"Commander," Tuvok said, drawing Chakotay's attention up from the reports from Stellar Cartography. "May I have a moment?"

Chakotay nodded towards the empty chair on his left, not that he expected Tuvok to take it. The Vulcan stood instead, at attention in front of him. The bridge was nearly empty. The night duty officers were already at the helm and OPS. One of Tuvok's deputies had the security station, and the Vulcan's presence was unnecessary.

"I thought you were going to relieve the captain?" he asked, curious. Kathryn had been taking more than her share of shifts with the Doctor. The EMH had been trying to reconcile a loop in his programming for the last several days and Kathryn's guilt for not letting the Doctor deal with his feelings earlier had been weighing on her. He could see it in her face, even though they hadn't spoken much about it.

"She declined," Tuvok answered. "I believe her to be unwell."

"Oh?" Chakotay set down his work. "Disagreeing with you is a sign of being unwell?" he asked lightly.

Tuvok's eyebrow rose slightly. "My deduction is not based on the captain's disagreement with me, instead on a series of biological factors. Her rate of respiration was less regular than usual," Tuvok began. "Her skin was flushed and she appeared to be suffering intracranial discomfort."

"And you think I can get her to sickbay?" Chakotay asked, folding his hands into his lap.

"I believe your methods of persuasion may be more useful than my own," Tuvok said, still standing at attention in front of Chakotay's chair. "The captain is very emotionally involved in the Doctor's current struggle for self-determination. Using logic on the captain provides unfortunately inconsistent results, even more so than most humans."

Getting to his feet, Chakotay smiled at Tuvok. He had an idea what Tuvok was trying to do, and he appreciated it. "Since my duties lie elsewhere, you have the bridge."

"Aye, Sir," Tuvok said, moving towards the command chair. "I believe the correct axiom is to wish you good fortune."

"Thanks," he replied, stepping into the turbolift. "Hopefully I won't need too much of it." Taking advantage of the quiet, he tapped through the reports on his PADD until he found one that seemed likely. Seven of Nine's report on the inevitable decline of the gravimetric sensor array within the next two decades and her incredibly detailed plan considering the difficulty involved in building another one seemed useful, so he left that on top.

Tucking the PADD under his arm, Chakotay strolled through the quiet corridors. Voyager's gamma shift was notoriously quiet. He'd been on ships where gamma shift was simply another round of alpha shift with softer lighting, but Voyager was different. It was part of the character of the ship, and he liked the moments of silence.

The holodeck was also quiet as he entered. The space was off, something he almost disagreed with, other than the powersaving benefits. The Doctor may have been more peaceful in an idyllic setting. He'd been trying to decide where to take them during his next shift as the Doctor's confidant and decided that a desert, with the ever-changing landscape, might help.

The Doctor was perched on the edge of a chair, reading a book Chakotay recognised by the cover as Kathryn's. They'd discussed it over dinner the previous evening. Her fascination with Dante always made him smile.

"Commander," the Doctor acknowledged. His tone was clipped and he still seemed irritated. "Thank you, but I don't require company at this time."

At least some vestiges of the Doctor's manners were starting to return. He'd been understandably difficult to talk to. Chakotay recognised the Doctor's anger, frustration and guilt came from not being able to do anything constructive with any of those emotions. Perhaps, someday, the Doctor would be ready to look deeper within himself and Chakotay would be able to help him. That would be something: a hologram with a spirit guide.

"Actually, Doctor, I'm just looking for the owner of that book," he said aloud.

"I should hope she's in sickbay," the Doctor said, setting down the book and flying to his feet. "Commander, the Captain had a fever when she left. I told her to seek medical attention but--"

Putting up his hand stopped the Doctor's protest. "I'll take care of it," he soothed, walking over to the book. He picked it up and glanced down. "I think 'A ciascun'alma presa' is my favourite."

"I fail to see how a 12th century human poet has anything useful to say to a 24th century hologram," the Doctor sniffed, still bitter, even though he was trying.

"Perhaps that's the point," Chakotay mused. He patted the Doctor's shoulder. "If you thought it was useful, you wouldn't appreciate the beauty of the words."

"I fail to see why I'd be worthy of experiencing beauty after I deprived Ensign Jetal of the same privilege," he replied.

"We are always deserving of beauty and love," Chakotay reminded him, heading for the door. "Dante would agree with me. Maybe someday, when you finish the book, you'll have an idea what he meant."

The Doctor followed him to the door and caught his arm. His touch was hesitant and Chakotay couldn't help empathising with his self-doubt. "Commander?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"You are going to see the captain, aren't you? You'll see that she goes to sickbay." The pleading in the Doctor's eyes was genuine and remarkably human.

"Don't worry," Chakotay promised, covering the hand on his arm with his own. "You're the second person to send me after her."

"Good," the Doctor said, retreating to the chair and the book.

"Good night Doctor," Chakotay said before he left. The Doctor nodded once in acknowledgement, engrossed in the book.

It was a few moments' walk and another trip through the turbolift to Kathryn's quarters. He suppressed a warm flare of guilt in his stomach for bothering her so late at night and concentrated on what she must be going through. The guilt over what she'd done to the Doctor had arrived without warning after she'd rethought her decision. Kathryn Janeway was not in the business of second guessing herself, and she'd been forced into it more lately. Her confidence, though charming and occasionally brazen, was as important to the crew as it was to her.

He'd agreed with her eighteen months ago. The Doctor was too vital to the crew's safety to risk allowing the program to be lost. Voyager's crew needed a chief medical officer. Perhaps this time would be different. What he'd learned in eighteen months might be enough to ensure his survival this time.

He tapped the door chime and her response was slow. Five years had taught him what exhaustion sounded like in her voice.

"Come in."

She might accuse him of being manipulative later, but she'd have to be feeling better to get that far. Kathryn sat on the sofa, still in her uniform, in her dark quarters. She had her elbows balanced on her knees and her head in her hands. She didn't look up.

"Forgive me for bothering you," he began, taking a step towards her so the door shut behind him. "I've been trying to puzzle through gravimetric data and quantum resonance scanners and I'm afraid I'm well over my head. Seven deserves an answer to her report, and I've been promising to give her one all day."

"Her report?" she asked, dropping her hands from her forehead to her neck before she looked up. "What report?"

Chakotay crossed to the sofa and sat down next to her. Kathryn sat up, but he could see the effort it took traced into the lines around her mouth. When he handed her the PADD, her hands were warm. Much warmer than usual, and he agreed with the Doctor's diagnosis. He wouldn't be surprised if she'd managed to catch the roving virus Tom had been fighting valiantly in the Doctor's absence. It was non-lethal, and twice Tom had simply let it run its course rather than replicating a synthetic antigen. The sickbay computer wasn't perfectly versed in Delta Quadrant viruses and Tom wasn't ready to let it build an antigen on its own.

"The gravimetric sensor array is in need of a complete overhaul," he said, scrolling down on the PADD for her. Seven's sixth paragraph, in the section regarding quantum distortions, was more complex than anything he'd learned at the Academy. If he'd been inclined to understand it at all, instead of simply signing off on Seven's well-thought-out suggestions and B'Elanna's engineering brilliance, Chakotay would have had Kathryn explain it to him. She loved quantum physics and deep space and he was fond of the way her eyes lit up when she was explaining something she was passionate about.

"Seven's suggestions seem to be valid, but I'm not sure if we can function without gravimetric sensors when we enter the patch of space in the next parsec with the tertiary subspace folding and the undocumented-yet-fascinating particle resonance patterns. I believe it's known as spatial grid four-four-nine." He kept his smile, pretending to ignore the way holding the PADD up and keeping her eyes open to read it was to difficult for her to do simultaneously.

Kathryn blinked, as if the words on the PADD were out of focus. "Computer, lights," she said.

The sudden change in illumination took his eyes a moment to adjust and forced hers closed with a wince. That he was allowed to respond to.

"Everything all right?"

She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, then pressed hard into her skull, just behind her temples. "It's just a headache."

"Half-lights," he amended her order. The level of illumination dropped, but her eyes stayed closed.

"Are we sure the aliens using us for science projects aren't back? I haven't had a headache like this since they were here." Kathryn sighed and swallowed. She grimaced at the movement and got slowly to her feet. She paused at the replicator before she ordered. "Coff-" she stopped. "Water."

He left the sofa, leaving the PADD behind on the coffee table. Putting his hand on her back startled her but she relaxed after a moment. "Try raspberry tea."

"Raspberry?" she asked, digging her fingers into the muscles at the base of her neck.

"Trust me," he assured her. Handing her the water, he asked the replicator for raspberry tea with honey.

"I didn't think you were an authority on headaches," she quipped, sinking back into the sofa and closing her eyes. "Why haven't I seen this report before?" she asked, gesturing lazily with her left hand. Drinking the cold water made her frown again, and sitting up to reach for the PADD made her narrow her eyebrows.

Sitting on the table instead of the sofa, he took the empty water glass from her hands and carefully wrapped her fingers around the tea cup. "You looked at it this morning. I brought it to you in the holodeck."

"You did?" Kathryn stared down at the tea in her hands instead of looking up at him. "This morning?"

"I did," he promised. She'd read it then and ordered him to tell Seven that thinking ahead for a few years was fine, but she expected to be home well before her sixtieth birthday. "Drink your tea."

"Is that an order?" she asked, blowing across the top of it.

"Would it make a difference?" he asked, steadying her hands until she had the cup at her lips. Kathryn didn't fight him nor did she resist as he took the cup back.

"Can you give me the condensed version?" she asked, shutting her eyes and sinking back into the sofa. "Words with more than five syllables are making my vision swim. It must have been an even longer day than I thought. The gravimetric sensors really are failing?" The question was almost a plea for it not to be true.

"They will," Chakotay answered selectively. He left off the twenty years it would take for them to do so. "Seven's data is incontrovertible, as usual."

"Of course," she agreed. Uncomfortable in her current position, she sat up and dropped her head back into her hands. "Does she mention the environmental controls?"

"No," he replied gently. "This report is only about the sensors."

"Is it cold in here?" Kathryn asked weakly. "I should check the environmental controls."

He put his hands on her knees when she started to stand. "I'll check them. Try and drink your tea."

"Drink your tea, Captain," she teased him without lifting her downcast eyes up from the floor.

"Of course, that's what I meant. Drink your tea, Captain." He left the coffee table and checked the environmental controls. "They're working perfectly."

Kathryn shook her head slowly then held it very still, as if the motion had hurt. She sat up, arms firmly crossed over her chest. "I suppose that means I'm the one with her thermostat set wrong?"

"I think the temperature in here is fine," he admitted, picking up the PADD again.

She looked at it for a moment in his hand. "The sensors are failing."

"Seven of Nine predicts they will," he said, still leaving out the time frame.

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. If he thought she would have permitted the contact, he would have held her. Chakotay walked into her bedroom. Finding the throw he'd seen her wrap around her shoulders while reading, he grabbed it and brought it to the sofa.

"Here," he said, guiding it around her back.

"My EMH needs a psychotherapist, my sensors are failing and I feel like I'm sitting on Andor in the middle of winter," she complained, pulling the blanket tighter.

Chakotay sat down next to her, keeping his hands and the PADD in his lap. "Have you thought about going to sickbay?"

"Chakotay, I'm fine," she answered without enthusiasm. It was barely convincing but he nodded, playing along.

"All right," he agreed. "I'll continue then." Lifting the PADD again, Chakotay began to read; launching into the bulk of Seven's explanation of how difficult it would be to construct a new gravimetric array from the limited supplies at Voyager's disposal.

Kathryn made it gallantly into the second paragraph before she stopped him. Her fingers were hot, even through his uniform as she grabbed his arm. "Chakotay-"

"What's wrong?" he asked, setting the PADD aside and shutting it down.

"Everything," she complained, leaving her hand on his arm. She gripped it tighter, almost shivering. "I don't have any idea what you're saying and I should understand all of it. I know how to construct a sensor array." The frustration made her tone bleak before she stopped and her blue eyes suddenly teared up. "I just can't think. I couldn't even read before, in the cargo bay. I can't make anything make sense and my head hurts."

Chakotay broke their carefully upheld rule and touched her forehead. His hands must have been cool against her skin because she sighed suddenly and leaned into his touch. The motion was minute; a tiny shift in position, but it meant the universe had shifted, if only for a moment. Her skin was hot and dry. Wrapping his fingers around her head, so her forehead rested against his palms, he held her in the only way she would allow.

"That helps," she whispered and her eyes closed.

"Remember that virus Tom brought up in the staff meeting?" he asked gently. "The one he's calling the Delta Quadrant flu?" Keeping his hands on her forehead seemed to help her focus a little and he felt her slight nod in the affirmative. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you've got it," he continued.

He felt her brow furrow for a moment, then relax beneath his palms. Her eyes fluttered open and she kept them so with great effort. "I guess that means I won't be escaping a trip to sickbay?"

"I can treat you here," Chakotay offered. Releasing her forehead, he guided her tea back up to her mouth. "But you won't allow it."

Sipping slowly as she clung to his wrists, Kathryn looked straight into his eyes. Her deep blue ones were too bright from her illness. "Not won't," she whispered.

He could have pressed the moment; insisted that letting him care for her wasn't crossing the line between them she'd drawn so firmly. Instead, he held her gaze long enough to smile sadly and nod.

"Finish this," he suggested, wrapping her fingers securely around the cup. "I'll replicate you some more and walk you down to sickbay."

"Thank you," Kathryn said, raising her voice to normal. She'd finished her cup by the time he returned with a new one.

She started to protest but he insisted. "It'll help keep you warm."

Dropping the blanket on the sofa as she stood made her immediately wrap her arms around herself for warmth. Kathryn stood in front of him, cheeks flushed and barely keeping herself from shivering through sheer force of will. He handed her a fresh cup of steaming raspberry tea and guided her towards the door.

"Chakotay," she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

The proximity of her fingers made his heart race.

"The sensors," Kathryn demanded, holding him still. "What about the sensors?"

"They are going to fail," he promised her. Reaching for her shoulder let him squeeze it warmly. "In twenty or so years."

"Twenty years?"

Her frown deepened as they left her quarters. She was sipping her tea in the turbolift when she turned her eyes sharply to him.

"You misled me," she accused, turning to face him. "You let me think--"

"I was making a point," Chakotay dodged the argument and eased her down the corridor towards sickbay. "You were too sick to notice."

"Commander," she chided, pausing outside of the door to sickbay. "You should be ashamed. Taking advantage of me like that is a few steps from mutiny."

"I got you down here," he said, grinning and pointing her in.

Tom emerged from the Doctor's office as they entered. He yawned once and Chakotay reminded himself to thank the lieutenant for putting in so many extra hours over the last few weeks.

He looked them both over and settled his gaze on the captain as he grabbed a tricorder. "So, all that coffee can't protect you from the DQ flu, can it, Captain?" he quipped. The tricorder beeped and Tom clucked his tongue. "Have a seat. My hypospray and I will be right with you."

Chakotay could have returned to his quarters, but he watched Kathryn pull herself up on the biobed and sit, clutching her tea to her chest. He removed one of the sickbay blankets from the wall cupboard and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I think yours is prettier," he said. "But this will have to do."

Her grateful smile was weak but beautiful. "Thank you," Kathryn replied.

Tom returned with two vials in one hand and a hypospray in the other. "Now, I've got good news and bad news, Captain.. The bad is that I haven't been able to develop a synthetic antigen. The good news is that with a little melorazine for the headache and a T-cell stimulator, you'll be able to fight this off on your own in a day. Two at most. You'll feel a little lousy, and I'd make sure you have a good book, but you'll be fine. Keep drinking fluids, don't worry about eating if you don't feel up to it and call me if anything changes."

He dropped his smile for a moment as he injected first one vial, then the other into her neck. "The blue rash is nothing to worry about."

Tom held it long enough to convince Chakotay he was joking, but Kathryn couldn't read him in her exhaustion.

"I'm kidding," Tom promised, breaking into a sympathetic smile. "Go sleep. You'll remember I'm funny when you're feeling better."

"Thank you, Mr. Paris," Kathryn said, still clinging to the tea Chakotay had given her.

"I'll walk you back," Chakotay offered, standing by her side near the biobed. "I'm perfectly well and I don't find him that funny."

"I heard that, commander," Tom joked as returned to his temporary office. "You'd better hope it's not too contagious."

Kathryn winced, gulping half of her tea and then setting the cup down beside her. She looked at him, the shut her eyes. She bit her lip, holding in a moan of pain. It wasn't like Tom could hear her, but she was usually so careful to be the impervious captain in public. Her voice was an agonised whisper and Chakotay understood how terrible she felt.

"You'll feel better soon." He circled the biobed, stopping directly in front of her. There had to be something he could do to ease her suffering.

"It's the minute or two it takes the painkillers to kick in that's the worst," she complained, rubbing the back of her neck. "You know they're going to work but they just haven't yet."

"Let me do that," he said, regretting the words as soon as they escaped.

"Chakotay..."

"Let me," he continued, growing bolder when he realised that him being with the captain so late at night hadn't phased Tom in the slightest. "I'm much better at it than you are." His hands hovered over her shoulders and waited for her permission.

Perhaps she was sicker than he thought, but finally she nodded. "You are."

Kathryn's neck was hot, just as her forehead had been and the knots along her spine responded well to his fingers as he eased the tension out. Her headache wasn't something he could cure, but he could take her mind off it while the melorazine took effect. Her head dropped lower and lower as he massaged the back of her neck. When it touched his chest she startled, but he hushed her. For a minute, maybe even two, she surrendered and let him comfort her.

Taking his hands from her shoulders and holding them tightly within her own fevered ones, Kathryn put an end to their contact. "Thank you," she whispered. "I feel much better." Everything else she couldn't let herself say danced through her eyes before she desperately looked away.

She left the blanket behind on the biobed and slid off. His hand balanced her and they shared another look. Kathryn turned her head away, feigning interest in her tea cup.

"I believe I have to drink that," she said, letting him retrieve it.

Chakotay passed it to her, smiling. One day, he was more certain of it each morning, she would take away the line between them and let them both be happy. "You really should, Captain."

"So a wise man told me," she replied. Her tiny smile was almost a confession. "A very wise man." She started towards the door, letting him rest a hand on her back. "Are you going to tuck me in?"

"I thought I'd walk you back," he answered, keeping his voice calm and even. "Melorazine makes some people light headed." He didn't have to say that he knew from experience that she was in that select group.

"And here I was thinking how nice it was not to have that awful headache," she said, smirking. Kathryn rubbed her temples again, leaning against the wall of the turbolift. "You and Tuvok will be all right tomorrow?"

"I thought I'd let Naomi have the bridge for alpha shift," Chakotay answered with utmost sincerity. "Can't start too early."

She chuckled, swaying a little when the lift stopped even though the motion was nearly intangible. "I knew she'd be after my job eventually."

"Maybe I should warn her now how bad the hours are," he quipped, guiding her back towards her quarters. Her hand slipped around his shoulder, holding on to keep her balance. "You need to try getting more sleep."

"I'll sleep when we get home," she insisted, gripping his shoulder a little tighter when he stopped them in front of her quarters. "I don't know what I want more, a hot bath or to sleep for days." She stumbled a little and his guiding her down into the closest chair made her chuckle. She clung to him, then sighed and closed her eyes.

"I'd skip the bath," he advised, stroking her forehead. Her hair always ended up out of place when she was at less than her best. "It'll probably just make you dizzier."

Kathryn pulled up her knees, curling into a ball on the chair. She dropped her head and sighed. "At least dizzy doesn't hurt."

"That's the spirit," he agreed, smiling. "Stay there," Chakotay ordered. He heard her giggle weakly.

"Where would I go?"

Heading into her bedroom, he took the books and data PADDs off her bed and turned down the blankets. Once he walked back out into the living room, her eyes were closed and he wondered if she'd had enough time to fall asleep.

Crouching down in front of her, he touched her knee. "Kathryn," he said. "You need to change and go to sleep."

"I was doing that," she protested, lazily opening her eyes. "Wrong order, wasn't it?"

"Come on," Chakotay said, reaching for her hands to help her up. "You'll sleep better in bed." She barely moved and the grip sleep had on her was so tight that he was surprised she heard him at all. Giving up on moving her under her own power, he lifted her up. It still amazed him that with her commanding presence, she was so small.

"More mutiny," she whispered, weakly squeezing his arm. "I'm sorry. I'm just so tired, Chakotay."

"It's all right," he promised. "I suppose this won't be the first time you've slept in your uniform?" He set her down on the bed and tugged her boots free. Pulling her jacket off, he set her commbadge next to the bed. Sitting next to her on the edge of the bed, he had to force away the desire to crawl into bed next to her.

"I don't know if I was ever out of uniform when I was an ensign," she teased him, pulling her blankets tight to her chest. "Maybe not when I was a lieutenant either."

"You'll have to tell me about that when you're feeling better," Chakotay said, touching her shoulder.

She smiled at him, closing her eyes again. The lines in forehead softened and disappeared. For the next few hours, her only responsibility was sleep.

"Sweet dreams."

He put her boots near the closet and hung up her uniform jacket with the others. Chakotay grabbed the data PADD he'd brought and took a last look around her quarters. He'd have to talk to Tuvok and make sure the captain got a day to recuperate. They could handle Voyager for awhile and let her sleep. Whether or not she would give herself the same time to get back her strength wasn't as sure, but there was always a chance she would listen to Mr. Paris and stay in bed.

Chakotay paused in the doorway, taking a glance at the way her hair spread out over her pillow. She turned, rolling over onto her side with a soft little sound. That vulnerability wasn't his to see, but knowing it existed would have to be enough for the time being. He could protect her in the ways she'd allow and this time, he'd made things easier. She'd even let him tuck her in.

His smile might have been too bright in the corridor. No one passed him to notice and he tapped his commbadge. "Tuvok, the captain is resting in her quarters. Your suspicions were correct."

"I do not need to remind you that they usually are, Commander."

Chakotay had to smile a little bit more. "I'll see you in the morning then."

"I will be on the bridge, Sir. Sleep well," Tuvok finished. "If the captain was not grateful, please allow me to express mine on her behalf."

"Thank you," he said. "Enjoy gamma shift."

Chakotay's quarters were dark and he left the lights off as he entered. He didn't have long to sleep and talking to his spirit guide would have to wait until the end of his shift. She would only tell him the same thing that she always did. He knew however he felt about Kathryn was worth waiting for, and that was why he'd still be waiting. No matter how long it took.


End file.
